Speak Softly
by phannywiggles
Summary: Two souls, bound by fate to find each other again might just do so. 3 years before the Sole Survivor wakes up, the Commonwealth is about to boil over, but no one knows exactly what's going on across the vast Atlantic Ocean.
1. chapter 1

So, this is a story set in the FallOut universe. I wanted to explore it while still also keeping many things cannon. It will follow two of my OC. Please feel free to comment and write and criticize.

CHAPTER 1

A hot puff of air rose slightly and drifted passed the sun. There was a crisp soft crunch slowly moving in the distance and getting slightly louder. Through the scope she could see it. As the creature searched aimlessly for any sign of food, she held her breath. There was a loud crack, and another small puff of air rose again. The crunching sound quickened but of the opposite direction of the explosive crack. She lowered her weapon. In the distance she watched her dinner run off, any hope of feeding herself for the night running away with it. She let out a long sigh, but the slowly made her way back to camp. It would be a long cold night, even longer without food, but she knew she had scared anything even remotely close to her away.

Through the thick dark frozen woods she slowly trotted. Pushing her face into the lining of her coat, breathing out heavy hot breaths to keep her nose warm and stuffing her hands in her pockets. Though the sun was high, it was still cold enough to turn your fingers black if she wasn't careful. As he methodically made her way back to her campsite, she kept her ears open. The snow covered forest was almost silent. Almost.

She might have been miles away from the next village, but the noises she could hear weren't human anyway. Whatever was howling like the beast it was, was far enough away that she didn't need to draw her weapon. From the sounds of it, it was most likely a pack of wolves that might have stumbled upon the dinner she failed to catch. Regardless, the walk back was slow, cold, and long.

Reaching her campsite as the distant howls seems to get farther away, she crawled into a small hole in the thicket of old dead laurel bushes. It has been an old animal nest, until the previous tenant had become dinner some nights ago. It was behind thick thorns and even thicker leaves. It was tough to see anything in it, and even tougher to penante. It was safe, and in these woods that's all that mattered.

She swung her rifle from around her shoulder, leaned it up against the tree, and began the tedious process of starting a fire. As she mechanically made her way through the process, she began to get lost in her own thoughts. She had been in these woods for almost a week, and there had not been a even the slightest trace of another person. Not a fire, not gun shot, not even littlest shift in the snow. It didn't bother her, it meant she was safe, but it gave her an uneasy feeling in her stomach. It most likely meant something deadly had been living here, or still was. There wasn't any evidence of this claim, but it still was eating at her in the back of her mind, occasionally setting off an air raid siren which would always bring her back to the cold reality.

Once the pile of twigs and dead leaves were in satisfying lump, she began to dig through a bag for her matches. Luckily, while in the last town she passed through, she picked them up and covered them in wax to make them waterproof. The slicing of the match across the side of the box almost seemed to be as loud as a gunshot, echoing through the bushes. She paused for a moment staring at the flame, almost holding her breathe. Placing it in the pile of dead objects and finally exhaling.

Reaching for her bag again, this time with more purpose, but also more relaxed. Digging around she finally came across her map, old, beat up, and full of marks. She had grabbed this map on her way out of the last major city she stopped in. Moscow. It had been a mistake, but she managed to grab a few things before the monster that had overtaken the historic city crept closer than was comfortable, sneaking out with a map, a photograph and a gun. The latter of the two had been in the same locked case. The gun was grabbed because it was older and easier to make modifications to, as well as break down and keep clean. The photograph on the other hand, had grab her attention. The entire case in the museum had peaked her interest, but the photograph seemed to called to her.

The map in front of her was now spread out with a compass balancing on her knee. Always thankful to her father that had taught her how to both read a map, and the world around her, which gave her the upper hand of the unlikelihood of getting loss. With her finger she traced along the wrinkles down to the most recent scribble on the map, lightly passing over names of old towns and the name of this old forest. Some of the names of the towns had changed, either due to war, or the times, but the name of the forest had always stayed the same. The Forest of Argonne. She had made good time since setting her sights on the coast. Not having anyone traveling with her, made it very easy to move from place to place at a moment's notice. Not getting attached helped, but the silence was sometimes louder than any gunshot.

Following the old roads, she found her next destination. Paris. She's would have to take the old D933 route, but it was safer since it didn't have a major bodies of water. She couldn't risk the radiation, not when she was this close to her goal. From Paris, she continued to follow the D933 route to Cabourg, from there she would take up work and hopefully be able to make enough money to get on a boat and head to England. Her father told her tales of massive boats that took people to a from a country across the ocean. Before the war, before many of the wars, thousands upon thousands of people would travel to the country in search of a better life, and she was following in the footsteps of the past. Her father had told her that these ships still sailed, and that one day, she would make her own way in the land across the vast ocean. Because of where she came from, her only chance of getting there, was through England.

Smiling at the memories dancing through her head, she paid little attention the the fire beside her which had finally caught and was crackling. She made little notes on the map of how long and where she might have to make camp along the way. Checkpoints where she might have to stop, either due lack of food or lack of sleep. Judging by the map, it would take her almost two days to get to Paris if she was able to keep up a good pace. She bobbed her head back and forth and sighed. Spending almost a week in this forest in search of food was a mistake. It cost her ammo and it now was costing her time. Continuing to bob her head and hum as each tilt went from shoulder to shoulder, playing with the idea of packing up and leaving now. Looking to the sky, she noted the position of the sun. It was early enough in the day now that most hunters would have given up or settled in with their prey, but if she wasn't fast enough, late enough that the rest of the hunters would start to stir as she would reach the edge of the forest.

Looking around the camp, playing with both options in her head, her stomach started to growl and chern. She would need to eat, and if she didn't eat soon, something would be eating her. With that though processing through her head, she sighed heavy letting out a large puff of hot air as she decided she would leave. She noted the position of the next closest town, folded up her map, picked up her belongings, and covered up the fire. The last thing she did was grab the photograph she had found in the museum from the makeshift shelf she had made, as a silver locket. Flipping the photo over in the hand, she made note of the names on the back. It looked like two last names, one belonging to her, and the other to the second woman in the picture. "Roosevelt" she said out loud, burning the name into her head and tucking the picture into her coat breast pocket. "Roosevelt" she said again, harder and louder swinging the rifle cross her. Taking one last look at her camp, her turned back and pressed forward through the brush.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

A cloud of smoke rose to the fluorescent lights, slowly drifting past it to join the rest of the smoke the hung just above the bar. The cold stones clanked around each other in the inside of the now empty glass. A hand drifted from the glass to just above the bar, waving down the bartender for another drink. Digging around her pocket, she places eight caps on the old wooden suffice. The bartender floated over with a whirl of his jets. Without a word, he refilled her drink, took her caps, tilted his little hat, and floated away. With a heavy heart, the woman at the bar lifted her barely cold drink and slowly drank from it.

"Bad day?" came a rough voice from the mouth of someone looked even rougher than he sounded. "I've had a few of those myself" he said sitting down next to her.

"I bet, being alive for more than two hundred years." She said with a smirk that matched her snark. She took another spit as her new guest spun in his chair to face the back wall of the bar, letting himself slouch.

"Nah, I aint that old yet, but, I think I'm about to make your day a lot better sweetheart." Her guest matched her smirk. She needed work. Not just for the alcohol or to feed herself, but also to finish something she started a long time ago.

"Alright, Hancock, I'm listening. I don't know for how much longer, but l'm listening." Placing her drink down, they both knew that he had her attention for the moment.

"I need you to take care of a few problems, and by a few I mean two. I'll have someone drop off the request later to you, but I don't need any-"

"How much?" she cut him off. As he paused to listen to the interruption He smile. He liked her, she was as good as his bodyguard, but a lot less hard looking. He appreciated her for what she was. What she was, was good at her job and keeping her mouth shut. She lived by a code, a code he also lived by. It had been almost serendipitous that she rolled into his little community. They were both founding fathers after all. Well, at least in this post war world. He looked her dead in the eyes and kept his smile glued to his face with a little chuckle.

"You got balls, Rose. I'll give you that. 200 caps sound good." He saw a smile flash across her face but he knew what she was about to say.

"You said two, Hancock." She raised her glass to her lips without breaking eye contact. "That'll be double. Unless you want the kid in there for do it." Nodding her head toward the VIP section knowing he would get the hint.

"Fine. Double after the job." He sighed heavily before taking a sip of the whiskey put silently in front of him by the floating scrap pile. "I'll have your instruction in the morning. I'll also take care of your tab." Hancock continued his drink and slowly relaxed into his stool now that business was over. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as she also relaxed. She was calm, but it was the Commonwealth after all, and that meant she couldn't let her guard down. He could sense that, so he raised his glass. "To Freedom." he said. Without rotating, Rose Lifted her glass.

"Aye. To Freedom." Clinking their glasses together, quickly followed by shooting their drinks down the hatch. Rose coughed and shaking her head as she did so. The Bartender glided over, and poured them both another. He requested no money this time, after all the transaction was done. Rose pulled the liquid between her teeth, slowly sipping it. She could feel her cheeks slowly growing flush. Luckily the Mayor had decided to grace her with his presence before she was too buzzed to agree to a lower price. She had a silver tongue, it had gotten her out of a lot of trouble in the past, but Hancock was too good to not pick up on it, and sometimes too good to talk her out of whatever IT was.

She watched the room from the corner of her eyes slowly, but she also studied what was going on in front of her. Her ears were filled with the sounds of beautiful music, her belly was full of both liquor and food, and she had a pretty good paycheck. It was a good place to be right now. Tension was building in the Commonwealth, no one knew exactly when it was going to boil over, but it needed to.

"So what do you know about the greenhorn" She said pointing her thumb at the VIP room again. She had heard rumors when he came to town that he was good, but she didn't know with what. He looked rough, and like everyone else in the ruins of the Eastern United states, tired. He had shown up in town a month or two after Rose did, which mean she still got the jobs due to her reputation, but she was expensive. Expensive for a good reason, but some people didn't have the caps for that.

"He came up from the Capital Wasteland. He use to roll with the Gunners. He's looking for something, but no one knows what." It sounded just like everyone else in this wasteland. Rose herself had come up from New York. Her family was lucky enough to have been rich enough to get into one of the vault when the bombs had fallen. She wanted to go to DC. She had business there, but she needed work, and North was better than South when she heard the reports that the Enclave had been destroyed in DC. She had heard rumors that DC had fresh water now, that they were working on a way to get the radiation completely out of the city. But she knew better than to let rumors give her hope, or set her destination. She had a job to do, and she had to keep going.

"Maybe I'll take him with me. Get him some practice."

"Maybe he'll teach you a thing or two. He's a sniper Rose. Apparently he use to be a Mayor of some town back in the Capital. Took off on his own. Got a wife and a boy."

"What the fuck is he doing here then?"

"Probably, like a certain someone I know, work." Rose, seeing that he was correct, tilted her glass towards him in an agreeing manor.

"Better watch your mouth there ghoul. I'm starting to feel pretty good right about now, and Lorena is starting to get bored." She now pointed her thumb at what looked liked a Swatter on her back. She of course was being sarcastic, and she knew that he knew that. She knew she wouldn't follow through on her threat right now, but it felt good to make it.

"I wouldn't dream of it Sunshine." He laughed it off. He left the booze do their job, because in the morning she'd be doing hers. That was something he could count on, and it was indeed a fact.

The evening slowly crept along, and the two false founding continued to crack jokes and follow up on leads. They kept up drinking with each other, but they did so slowly and enjoying the alcohol poured in front of them. Rose was getting too old to do shots anymore, and nothing felt better than the slow warmth burning its way up the back of her head.

As she drank she wondered how much longer she'd have to stay in the town. It frustrated her sometime, even if this place felt more like home than the vault did. Between the drifters, ghouls, and robots, it was nice. Probably the nicest place she'd had the pleasure of sleeping in for a long time. The Hotel around the counter had been the perfect place to make camp. A roof, a bed, a pillow, a an actual working bathroom. Not to mention all the work she could dream of.

"When are ya leaving Rose?" The ghoul said, bringing her back to reality.

"The bar, for your job, or permanently?" She questioned, now digging around in the bag for some cigarettes, pulling one out, and lighting it. Smoking wasn't her thing, she hated it really, but she had a nice buzz going and wanted a light.

"Permanently."

"Did I wear out my welcome already?" She said pushing the words through the cigarette she was trying to light in her lips.

"Nothing like that. You're good at your job, and I've been thinking Fahrenheit could use some company, or a day off. It would be steady pay and safe." She raised an eyebrow finally taking a drag of her cigarette.

"We both know that nothing is safe around you pal. I appreciate the offer but-"

"Think about it, doll." The ghoul shot the rest of his drink stood up, fixed his coat. Placing a rotten hand on her shoulder, she could smell the alcohol like cologne floating around it. "Think about it." He patted her shoulder and walked off. She watch him walk with his head held high. Sometimes the confidence on the man was unnerving, but that's why he was the mayor after all.


End file.
